Bruce was too old for hookups. In his mind, he'd had too many heartbreaks to care about the dating scene, let alone hookup culture. One night stands were something of his twenties, and the playboy facade was just that, a facade. So, when he woke up after a charity gala to a stranger sleeping next to him, a million questions swarmed his mind. He knew better than to let his guard down and get drunk, was far too aware to be drugged... so he must've given in. No, that was impossible... Right. Right? Bruce got out of bed and got dressed immediately, and folded the mysterious figure in his bed's clothes, setting them neatly on a nearby armchair. Sitting at his bedroom's desk, he took in their features, and tried to rack his mind the best he possibly could as to why he took them specifically to back his room.